Counting Down the Days
by Patrick the Stump
Summary: We kissed in the corner and danced through the night - 25 nextgen christmas drabbles - &the bells were ringing out for Christmas day.
1. December 1st

_**Note: **I'm so excited for Christmas! Eeeek, it's going to be amazing. Big hugs to the NGFs, and especially Lo and Listen, because they came up with this amazing challenge idea._

_**Day One - December 1st**_

_main prompt: __gingerbread_

_pairing/character: __James the second{and Scorpius}_

_additional prompts __ ;; linger ;; tree_

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><p><span>Gingerbread Men<span>

James smiled as he added the finishing touches to the gingerbread men. It was a family tradition, as such, for him to be the one to makes the gingerbread. Albus would help their dad with the Christmas lights, and Lily would decorate the tree under strict guidance from mum. This year, though, another guest was visiting for Christmas, one that didn't quite fit in with the usual Potter agenda.

Scorpius Malfoy sat on the workbench with his feet propped up against one of the kitchen stools, still in his pyjamas and fluffy a jumper that Mrs Weasley had knitted him the previous year. He would occasionally lean over James to steal an every-flavoured-bean from one of the messy, half-finished gingerbread men. His hand lingered a few seconds, hovering over one of the biscuits a little too long. James briskly slapped his hand away, and Scorpius brought it back to his body, cradling it carefully with his other hand.

"Ouch," he said, a pout forming on his pale lips.

"You're going to get my gingerbread men all dirty with your Slytherin germs," James laughed, "They'll catch some sort of disease – I'll know when they're infected, because they'll start acting like pompous, stuck-up prats," James winked, and the blonde's scowl deepened. His hand darted towards that packet of sweets that James had been using as decoration, and jumped from the worktop onto the tiled floor. He skidded as he ran, stuffing the occasional bean into his mouth. After a few seconds, James clambered after him, roaring with laughter; the gingerbread men forgotten.

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><p><em><strong>Note<strong>__: Please review – don't favourite without doing so first, please&thankyou._


	2. December 2nd

_**Day Two - December 2nd**_

_main prompt__: chimney smoke_

_pairing/character__: RoxanneScorpius_

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><p>"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Roxanne's eyes were filled with awe and excitement as she looked out over the snow-filled countryside. It was midnight, and she was perched atop the icy roof of her house, clinging loosely to the brittle tiling.<p>

"Yeah," Scorpius agreed – he was sat beside her, the image of cool, like he scaled her house every night, "It's amazing."

The stars shone brightly, casting a dim light over the pair as they watched the empty fields around them with a sort of silent contentment. The snow began to fall again, but softer and quieter than it had earlier that day. The snow didn't lay, and the wind didn't blow ferociously like it had been doing all week. It too was enjoying its peaceful moment before the adults woke and the children came out of their homes to wreak havoc and destroy the neat, white blanket that lay on the ground.

They sat there, wrapped up in scarves and thick, woollen coats for what seemed like only a minute, but the heavy, black chimney smoke that began to rise from the vent signalled the morning. Her parents were awake.

Scorpius smiled sadly, and squeezed her hand. He brushed away a single, fragile snowflake from her hair. He climbed down from his perch, and Roxanne watched him walk away, leaving a trail of impurities in the soft, once innocent snow of the night.

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><p><em><strong>Note<strong>__: Please review – don't favourite without doing so first, please&thankyou._


	3. December 3rd

_**Day Three - December 3**__**rd**_

_main prompt:__ icicles_

_pairing/character:__ LouisHugo_

_additional prompts:__ spin_

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><p>Hugo scraped his chubby fingers along the worktop as the stool he was spinning on grinded to a halt.<p>

"What have I told you about spinning on chairs, Hugo?" said Grandma Weasley. Her round face matched her flaming hair as she threw the frozen turkey onto the bench, muttering about how it would never defrost by the morning.

"Stop making a nuisance of yourself and find something to do," his Grandma said, hurrying the small boy out of the kitchen and into the empty corridor. Hugo wasn't sure what he could do. He wanted to go to bed – there was only one more sleep until Christmas, now, but it felt like a lifetime away.

Hugo poked his head around the door to the living room, spotting a whole crowd of Weasleys occupying every surface possible. He whipped his head back around the door, and decided it was probably safer on the stairs. His family could be quite scary, sometimes.

"You alright, little man?"

Hugo looked up, spotting his cousin Louis, smiling down at him, wearing the traditional Weasley Christmas jumper.

Hugo nodded, and went back to playing with his hands.

"Are you excited for tomorrow?" Louis asked, the same kind tone in his voice.

Hugo nodded feverishly, jumping up from the stairs, "Santa's coming, and he's going to bring me presents and-" Hugo stopped speaking as he heard Louis' laugh. He recognised it, not as his sisters' derisive giggles, but as a friendly chuckle. Hugo smiled.

"Shall we go and see if we can spot Santa, outside? We might be able to see his sleigh, and the reindeers," Louis said, nodding towards the door.

~xx~

"I can see him, I can see him!" Hugo jumped, waving his hands so wildly that a collection of icicles cascaded noisily around their heads.

"Duck!" yelled Louis, throwing himself on the floor, "It's an icicle attack!"

Hugo, roaring with laughter, imitated the older boy, his excited shrieks wracking his body as they both fought off the happy stitches in their sides.

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><p><strong><em>Note<em>**_: Please review – don't favourite without doing so first, please&thankyou._


	4. December 4th

_**Day Four - December 4th**_

_main prompt:__ mistletoe_

_pairing/character:__ lysandervictoire_

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><p>Victoire had always been the most beautiful of the Weasley girls. There was no denying it, the swish of her hair, the spark in her eyes, the curves of her lips – she was desirable, and she knew it. Lysander wondered if someone could be born with such a great attraction, because really, it wasn't only him that felt this way. Hundreds of boys and men alike had and would feel that god-awful flip in their stomachs when she passed, or that painful twisting in their chests when she smiled.<p>

She was the kind of girl that was perfect, but the one that you couldn't help but love and hate at the same time. She was the kind of girl who could break someone's heart with flutter of her lashes, and they would be happy for it – because getting your heart broken by her was some sort of honour, an honour that many boys had won.

Lysander wasn't the first to feel that sickening drop. It was Christmas day, and he had that warm, fuzzy feeling in his stomach. His parents had let him have a glass of firewhiskey with his lunch, and he felt flushed and confident. He was going to say something to her; he was going to tell her how he felt. So what if he was only fifteen – he was going to do it, for real this time.

He stood up, a cocky smile spreading across his face as he made his way across the room. He leant against the fireplace for a moment, pretending to look around, but really he was just settling his nerves. His stomach was doing back-flips.

He secured his smile once again on his lips, and turned around to where Victoire sat. The smile almost instantly slipped from his face, and was replaced by a grimace, and a hurt look in his eyes. Teddy Lupin was holding a bunch of mistletoe above Victoire's head, and slowly, without even noticing Lysander, the girl leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the older boy's lips.

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><p><em><strong>Note<strong>__: Please review – don't favourite without doing so first, please&thankyou._


	5. December 5th

**_Day Five - December 5th_**

_main prompt__: carols_

_pairing/character:__ lily the second_

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><p>You think that something should've happened by now – you should've found someone who you love as much as you love yourself, as much as you hate yourself. And that thought, the one that plays around your eyes and contorts that expression on your face, the one that bites back with those comments about how really, they're only jealous of you because god, you're so much better than them – well that thought is surfacing less often now, and its place is being stole by that sickening feeling that suggests that maybe you're not good enough for <em>them<em>.

And another Christmas comes and goes, and you remember those carols you used to sing around the piano when you were younger, and with a bottle of firewhiskey in your hand, you relive those happy memories amidst a tidal wave of bittersweet nostalgia. You search for the prize at the bottom of the glass bottle, the ignorance and the barrier that comes with the alcohol. You try to push it away, those fond memories that are nothing but hazy blurs in your mind, but the carols still chime through, loud and clear in the silence of the night and the noise of the blood, pulsating around your head

And as you slip off into unconsciousness, the images around you swirling and darkening as the night itself goes on, you can still here the Christmas carols. They make you smile.

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><p><strong><em>Note<em>**_: Please review – don't favourite without doing so first, please&thankyou._


	6. December 6th

**_Day Six - December 6th_**

_main prompt:__ snow_

_pairing/character:__ lucyteddy_

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><p>Lucy pressed her face up against the carriage of the Hogwarts express, her nose flattening against the cold window pane as she gazed in awe at the sight before her.<p>

"Snow!" she exclaimed, watching as the tiny flakes pirouetted in the air, swaying gently in the wind, "For the first time this year!"

Teddy appeared beside her, his face mirroring, his lopsided, yellow bobble-hat falling over his left eye as he shuffled to get a better view. He pressed a hand against the glass, where a cluster of snowflakes had gathered, and closed his eyes, almost as if he could feel them.

"Snow," he smiled, repeating what Lucy had said, a huge grin playing around his lips, "I didn't think it would happen this year, the way the weather's been. Merlin, if it stays until the twenty-fifth -"

"A white Christmas!" Lucy finished, laughing a little. That warm, Christmassy feeling was bubbling inside of her, and despite the presence of snow, her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and –

_Bump._

The train thudded to a halt at the station, causing Lucy and Teddy, who were perched precariously on the edges of their seats, to tumble lightly to the floor. They were too excited to care.

"We're home!" yelled Teddy, pulling Lucy into a bone crushing hug. He grabbed hold of her hand and tugged her, still laughing, out of the carriage door. Lucy trailed behind him, her arm almost pulled out of her socket by the force of Teddy's joy, but she was giggling too – her long hair splaying out behind her as she ran through the empty corridors – clearly nobody, not even the first years, was this excited for the snow. They bounded past the compartments of bewildered students, and stopped at the doors leading out onto the platform.

The doors opened agonisingly slowly, and with a loud creak, they were free. Teddy hopped off the platform and into a small heap of untouched snow, his hat bobbing about with the momentum, and Lucy followed suit.

They grinned. The first snow of the year had always been something special for them.

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><p><strong><em>Note<em>**_: Please review – don't favourite without doing so first, please&thankyou._

_{anonymous reviewer, 'What' - thanks for telling me your opinion. I'm not entirely sure what you mean, though. If you're refering to the lack of backstory, then that was sort of intentional. If you're talking about the alcoholism not being entirely realistic, I'm but a fourteen year old who hasn't experienced the situation that Lily finds herself in. I'll always try to improve, so I'd love to know how you think that I could do this. But at the moment, I'm just a little confused about what you mean. Thanks}_


	7. December 7th

_**Day Seven - December 7th**_

_main prompt:__ ornaments_

_pairing/character: __mollylorcan_

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><p>They all gathered around the Christmas tree, the older ones allowing the smaller children to the front, convinced that they were far too old for such a juvenile thing as decorating a tree; all of the teenagers, that was, except from Molly and Lorcan.<p>

They were both fifteen, and considered almost grown up by the adults, and practically pensioners by the toddlers, but they sat firmly at the front, excited grins on their faces as they stared at the fresh, cheery evergreen that stood in the middle of the Burrow's living room.

"Move over, move over," Grandma Weasley said, shuffling through the crowd of her family, by blood or otherwise, carrying a rotting cardboard box that was overflowing with Christmas decorations. She set them down beside Molly and Lorcan, ruffling Molly's red hair and said to the small crowd, "You know the rules – be nice, no arguing, _and no hexing people_," she glared at Fred, and he blushed scarlet.

"That was _one _time," Fred muttered under his breath to Lucy.

"Go on then," their Grandmother smiled, hopping out of the way of the complete and utter riot that she knew would begin a few moments later.

Molly was the first to dive for the box, rummaging through for a pretty ornament. The rest of her family followed suit, even the oldest ones, who were, after all, far too old, were knocking over the lit'luns to reach the box, grabbing handfuls of tinsel and lights.

"That's my bauble!" Lily screeched, pulling a sparkly star out of Rose's unsuspecting hands.

"Get off the tinsel!" James yelled to his younger brother, tugging the line away from Albus.

"I swear to Merlin, if somebody else has taken the angel again this year - " Roxanne panicked, searching in vain amongst the ruins of the box.

When the ruckus was over and all of the family stood back to admire the crumpled, mismatched and uneven tree, everyone but Molly and Lorcan vacated the room. Angelina was fixing up Fred's bloody nose, Ginny had hurriedly rushed her family out of the house, muttering something about a broken vase, and Lysander was tangled up somewhere amongst a pile Christmas lights – well, it was his own fault that he'd tried to steal the red-robin away from Teddy.

"Something's missing," Molly said, a confused expression playing across her face, "I'm not entirely sure what it is." She studied the tree for another minute, collapsing on the floor next to Lorcan.

"I think I could take a guess," Lorcan smiled, gesturing to something clenched in his fist.

Molly instantly recognised it – it was an ornament, made from glitter and cardboard and dry spaghetti tubes – something that she'd made for her grandmother when she was five years old. It had hung from the family tree every year ever since.

"May I?" Lorcan pointed towards the tree, and Molly nodded slowly.

Lorcan attached the ornament to a sturdy branch, using the frayed pink ribbon that clung to it, and stood back to admire the effect. Molly quietly got up, and walked to where he stood.

"Perfect," she muttered, as Lorcan pulled her in to a warm, one-armed hug.

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><p><em><strong>Note<strong>__: Please review – don't favourite without doing so first, please&thankyou._


	8. December 8th

_**Day Eight - December 8th**_

_main prompt:__ north pole_

_pairing/character:__ rose_

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><p>"Mummy," whispered Rose, clinging tightly to her mother's neck as she looked up at the stars "Where does Santa live?"<p>

Hermione smiled down at her daughter, patting down the girl's shock of red hair, and replied, "The North-Pole, of course, dear."

"What's the North-Pole?" Rose was staring up at her mum now, twirling a strand of her mother's hair tightly around her own chubby little finger, causing her mum to wince.

"It's a place filled with snow, so the reindeers can gallop about in it – and the elves work there, to make toys for children who are good," Hermione told her.

"Where is it?" Rose tilted her head to the side, and pointed across the garden, "Is it that way?" Hermione blinked, unsure of how to answer.

"It's very far away, dear," she decided, setting Rose down on her own two feet again.

"How far away?" Rose questioned, tugging on her mother's cloak, "Can we apparate there?"

"No," Hermione said, looking unsure, searching widely for an explanation, "Santa works very hard, he can't have children visiting him all the time or he'd never get all of the toys made, so he decided to block up his fire-place."

"That's silly," Rose smiled, not bothering to explain her reason as she skipped into the house and began rummaging through the cupboards.

"What're you doing, Rose, it's nearly time for bed. Only one more sleep, after all," Hermione tried to pick up her daughter, but Rose squirmed free, knocking over a huge pile of pots and pans as she searched high and low.

"What're you looking for, Rosie?" Hermione asked, trying once again to edge Rose towards the door – Hermione wanted some peace and quiet, and possibly a bottle of brandy before the noise and excitement of Christmas day.

"We need to leave Santa something, you see. If his chimney's blocked up, then nobody can bring him any presents, can they?" Rose looked at her mother as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and went back to searching.

~xx~

Hermione collapsed onto the sofa, her pyjamas on and a tired Rose in her lap. She ran a comb through her daughter's hair, whispering a soft song to her, reminding her that in the morning, if she was lucky, Santa might leave her something nice.

Ron stumbled in, his face red from a little too much firewhiskey down at the local pub, his cheeks blazing with a cheery smile. He clambered through the door noisily, and into the kitchen, finally reappearing in front of Hermione and Rose with a mince pie in his hand.

"Daddy!" Rose gasped, sounding appalled, "You're eating Santa's present!"

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><p><em><strong>Note<strong>__: Please review – don't favourite without doing so first, please&thankyou._


	9. December 9th

_**Day Nine - December 9th**_

_main prompt: __snowman_

_pairing/character: __AlbusScorpius_

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><p><em>This is for <em>_**Livvi**__, because she has a challenging nose._

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><p>Albus was bored. The snow outside was still falling, and McGonagall had banned all students from flying. Albus needed something to do, or he was going to go mad.<p>

"Scorpius," Albus cooed at his best friend, who was sitting on the opposite end of the couch, immersed in a book that lay on his lap.

"No," Scorpius replied, before Albus had even finished his sentence, "I'm reading."

"But I'm bored!" Albus protested, shaking Scorpius shoulders as he continued to read.

"Leave me alone, Al," Scorpius prodded his friend playfully in the ribs, "Go find someone else to play with."

"But I want to play with you," Albus pouted, sounding like a stubborn toddler.

Scorpius, admitting defeat, threw his book onto the couch. He couldn't resist the puppy-dog eyes, it really was impossible.

/

"Albus Potter, if you throw one more snowball at me I swear I will -"_ splat_. Another ball of snow collided with Scorpius' coat, and he heard a cackle coming from behind an evergreen. Scorpius started towards in, but paused, scooping up a handful of snow from the ground, taking another small, slow step towards the clump of bushes where his friend had hidden. Albus was still chuckling, and Scorpius detected him easily, hiding behind the largest fern.

Scorpius pounced towards a surprised Al, who jumped, falling onto the soft ground in shock. Scorpius, taking full advantage of his power, scrubbed the handful of snow into Albus' already cold face. Scorpius was hovering above Albus now, a twinkling in his eye that clearly spelled out mischief.

"Maybe we should play something a little gentler," Albus panted, wiping the snow from his face.

"What do you suggest?" Scorpius asked casually, refusing to budge even as Albus tried to wriggle free.

/

Scorpius collapsed onto the snow, beside a huge snowman the pair of them had made. It was oddly shaped, lumpy and discoloured by muck, but Scorpius was actually very proud. He was also very tired. Albus, however, refused to return back to the castle.

"Something isn't right," Albus pondered, pacing around the snowman, looking it up and down. Realization spread across his face, "He needs a nose!"

Scorpius sighed as his friend rummaged around for something remotely nose-shaped, finally coming across a knobbly pine-cone. He stuck it on the topmost heap of snow with a sort of finality, and stood back to admire its effect.

"It reminds me of you," Albus said with an offhand tone, straightening the pinecone.

Scorpius gasped, clutching his nose, "My nose does not look like that!"

Albus laughed, trying to pry Scorpius' hands from his face, "It does a little," Albus murmured, stroking the lump on Scorpius' nose fondly.

"It's not fair – I wasn't even in a Quidditch accident or anything, at least then I could've sounded cool. I was just born with this deformity on my face."

"I rather like your deformity," Albus smiled, tugging at Scorpius' fingers. The blond pouted, trying to pull away.

"In actual fact, your nose happens to be my favourite part of you," Albus continued, planting a soft kiss on the other boy's nose.

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><p><em><strong>Note<strong>__: Please review – don't favourite without doing so first, please&thankyou._


	10. December 10th

_**Day Ten - December 10th**_

_main prompt:__ bells_

_pairing/character:__ Louis {&Scorpius}_

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><p>Louis awoke to the sound of bells, and something in the back of his hazy mind stirred told him that it was Christmas morning. He rolled over, his hand brushing against something – or someone – as he did so.<p>

"Oh no," he groaned quietly, "Not again."

The blond that lay next to him stirred, covering his eyes with the back of his hand, shading himself from the sun that was trickling through the gap in the curtain. He looked at Louis with something that almost resembled boredom, and sighed, "We really do have to stop meeting like this."

Louis' head was spinning, and he sank back down into the cushion, closing his eyes and praying that by the time he opened them again, Malfoy would've disappeared.

He heard a soft chuckle that alerted him to the fact that his Christmas wish had failed to come true.

"You know, it really isn't my fault – you just keep throwing yourself at me. It's pretty pathetic really," Scorpius mused, pulling himself up into a seating position.

_Don't rise_, Louis thought, biting his tongue to keep himself from arguing.

"You know, it's only because I feel sorry for you that anything ever happens between us – I mean, look at you. I'm clearly way too good for this."

"Leave then," Louis said, through gritted teeth – willing himself not to punch Malfoy in the face, "Leave, if you're too good for me. Go back to your family, open your presents and stuff yourself with food. I'll do the same,"

Scorpius paused for a moment, unsure of what to do with himself, "Clearly you're getting a bit tetchy, Weasley, it's only because - "

"I can still hear you talking, Malfoy," Louis asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm, "Are you going to go, and leave the poor Weasley boy who really doesn't deserve your presence all, or are you going to shut up?"

Scorpius collapsed onto the bed again, defeated and tired looking, "I don't mean it, you know," he mumbled, against the pillow.

Louis smiled over at him, and Scorpius took his hand. The bells rang out again, but this time Louis was far too distracted to pay any attention at all to them.

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><p><em><strong>Note<strong>__: Please review – don't favourite without doing so first, please&thankyou._


	11. December 11th

_**Day Eleven - December 11th**_

_main prompt:__ stockings_

_pairing/character:__ dominiquelysander_

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><p>Lysander laughed as Dominique rummaged around in an old cardboard box, finally pulling out a battered, sickly-pink, homemade Christmas stocking.<p>

"How old are you, again, Dom," Lysander said, winking as he took hold of the stocking.

"It's my first Christmas away from home," Dominique said, pouting, "It feels odd. I've always hung that stocking on the fireplace, ever since I was tiny. I can't stop now, can I?"

Lysander pulled Dominique towards him, sitting her beside him on the couch, "You'll see your family in the morning – we're visiting your mum first thing, she's promised to make us Christmas breakfast."

"I know," Dominique sniffed, "But it's not the same – Vic and Louis would normally be there, and Louis would get really excited and mum would make us cookies and - " A tear slid from her cheek and onto Lysander's jumper.

"I know it's a big change, Dom, but we'll get used to it. It's strange, not having Lorcan around. Having our own place is scary, but it'll be okay in the end. It'll be nice. Victoire won't steal your clothes all the time, now," Lysander said, stroking Dominique's hair.

"It'll be okay in the morning," Dominique hiccupped, giving Lysander a sad little smile. She shuffled off to bed.

When she awoke, just out of habit, the first place she looked was her stocking. It was full to the brim with gifts. Maybe it did feel like home, after all.

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><p><em><strong>Note<strong>__: Please review – don't favourite without doing so first, please&thankyou._


	12. December 12th

_**Day Twelve - December 12th**_

_main prompt: __reindeer_

_pairing/character: __fred the second_

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><p>Fred sat on the cold, hard ground that was covered in snow. He ran a small twig through the snow, making thin burrows against the white.<p>

"Fred," his mother called out from the kitchen window, "You're going to catch a cold – come on in, dinner's almost ready. Santa isn't going to be here for another few hours yet. You know he doesn't come until you're fast asleep."

"I'm not waiting for Santa," Fred said, as he continued to drag the stick through the snow, "I want to see Rudolph."

His mother blinked, surprised, "But Santa's the one that brings you all the presents, dear."

Fred shrugged, "I wanted to feed Rudolph a carrot." Out of his jacket, he pulled a dirty carrot, and set it on his lap. He looked up at the sky expectantly, searching for some sign of the reindeer.

His mum was walking across the path, hands on hips, "Come in this instant, Freddie," she ordered, her face red from preparing the dinner.

He didn't listen, however, and with a shriek of delight Fred jumped up, pointing at footprints in the snow, "Look!" he yelled, "They're reindeer footprints, Rudolph must be close."

When Angelina had finally managed to persuade him to come into the house, Fred was forlorn. He collapsed onto the couch by the window, nibbling on the end of his fingers as he stared desperately into the garden.

With a gasp, he pressed his face up against the window. His eyes were wide, searching through the trees. He was sure that he's seen something lurking around the edges of a forest.

He went to bed happily that night, the prospect that he might have saw Rudolph was still playing on his mind.

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><p><em>Please review - do not favourite without doing so first, please&amp;thankyou.<em>


	13. December 13th

_**Day Thirteen - December 13th**_

_main prompt:__ gloria_

_pairing/character:__ louisroxanne_

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><p>Louis scuffed his feet along the floor of the dirty, grey train station. It was as far from Platform 9¾ as a station could be, with its grimy walls and cold, hard benches. There was no one around, and the place was dimly lit and almost eerie in the dark winter's evening. Louis loved it. Sure, he hated the stench and the appearance, and the overall gloom of the place, but he loved it. He loved it because it symbolised his freedom.<p>

He gripped hold of Roxanne's hand. It was rough with the cold, but it still somehow fed him warmth – he was glad that she was here.

"We're getting out of here," Louis whispered, and a smile spread across his face.

"Where are we going?" Roxanne asked, her voice shaking with excitement and nerves.

Louis shrugged, wrapping an arm around her, "Away. Away from our family, away from everyone who's ever hurt us. Away from everyone who's ever made us feel different. Away from this place."

A sad smile played around Roxanne's face, and she squeezed Louis' hand tightly. "Away," she agreed.

The platform was empty and quiet, and the noise of the train startled them both into a standing position. The engine rattled to a halt.

Louis glanced towards Roxanne as they stood beside the train. The carriage door opened slowly with a muffled creak, and Louis stepped on. The train was warm and bright, and smelled of something fresh but comfortable at the same time. In the background, quiet Christmas carols could be heard playing from a crackling radio. Louis hummed along to a tune that he was familiar with – _Gloria_ – a song that he'd heard many times in this youth. Roxanne looked behind her, out onto the dark, unfriendly station her. She took a step forward into the carriage, and smiled. They were going to a better place, now.

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><p>Please review - do not favourite without doing so first, please&amp;thankyou.<p> 


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